Where the Dwarves Go
by seawinter windgirl
Summary: What will become of Mulch and Artemis? Something is corrupting the Haven, but will they be the one to solve the mystery? REWRITE! PLEASE R&R AGAIN!
1. Chapter 1: The Escape

Disclaimer note: I do NOT, in any way, own the characters of artemis fowl. I made this up based on the books.  
  
Where the Dwarves Go Chapter 1  
  
Mulch grasped the key in his sweaty hands. The time had come. He was getting out of this stinking cell. He shrank against the wall. The guard came into the room with the filthy water they always gave him to give the prisoners. As soon as the guard had set the water bowl down and locked the door, Mulch sprang out from his refuge and out his plan into action.  
Dragging the drill that he had stolen from the workman the day before, he grabbed the bowl and spilled the water through the tiny cracks in the cemented, fireproof floor (there were goblins in almost every cell) and waited. After sitting on his aching haunches for an hour, he was ready to dig up some dirt, so to speak. He pointed the tip of the drill at the softest point in the cement floor, where he had poured his water every day for the past month. This stuff was hard to reverse. Luckily there was a seam of mortar to hold the slabs of cement together, and it happened to run straight through this cell. Under it, about four inches deep, was earth, which of course Mulch could chew through without any problem. When the mortar had begun to wear away, Mulch had panicked and covered it with his massive behind for three days until one of the goblins had thrown a shirt at him while having a good laugh at Mulch's immobile figure. Having torn up the fabric, Mulch had used the strips to cover his secret. Now he lifted up the shirt carefully, squinting to see in the almost complete darkness of night.  
He took a deep breath and turned on the drill. Due to the new fairy technology, there was absolutely no sound as it sank into the soft mortar. Mortar was actually outdated, but this was an age-old prison. It was still being inspected. No one wanted to go down three hundred feet under the ground to rebuild a stupid little prison. So it stayed, untouched and the technology was over a hundred years outdated. All the better for Mulch. When he had excavated a space just deep enough so he could see the earth peeking out at the bottom, he pushed the drill aside and leaped into the pit.  
He could smell freedom through this little pit, and it drove him on. After covering the pit up with the shirt, he carefully opened his back flap and unhinged his jaw, preparing to replenish his empty stomach. He plunged into the dirt wildly, throwing up digested clumps of dirt three feet into the air. He was five feet down. Ten feet down. Muck churned against his head. He was going across, his beard waving frantically. He was going up. Then he's almost to the top. Then he's out, sucking breaths of clean air on the north side of the prison building. He sighed and stretched. "Artemis Fowl would have been proud," he muttered under his breath.  
"Really? I'm not sure that's his fashion." A red-faced man stepped out from the shadows. "Especially since it didn't work." Mulch realized instantly that he was surrounded. He stood in a confusing mixture of alarm, fury and disbelief. He balled his fists but didn't dare make a move. Was he really defeated?  
"Don't be a naughty boy now, Mulch. Why don't we have a talk?" The man's face broke into a wide smile.  
"You haven't changed at all, I see, Julius Root," spat Mulch.  
"Ah yes, but enough chitchat. We really do have to talk."  
"I don't really care to say anything, Commander." Root turned redder than the vegetable his name happened to be.  
"You're coming, Mulch," he said, turning redder by the second, "whether you care to or not!" He stared furiously at him. Turning to an officer he said, "Please escort this prisoner to one of the rooms under my office. And I assure you, Mulch," he whispered through a wicked grin, "that you will be in a room of solid steel." 


	2. Chapter 2: The Trouble

Chapter 2  
  
Mulch wasn't quite fond of his new cell. In fact, he hated it. And who wouldn't, after getting the taste of freedom and then have it crushed into the ground? It was infuriating. However, as Commander Root promised, this was steel. And not even a top-class dwarf could stomach that.  
  
The person in this thought entered the room, puffing on one of his vile cigars. He dragged himself a chair and sat down, eye to eye with Mulch.  
  
"Thought you could play some games, convict?" he snorted with a glare. "After your trial, when we figured all of your arrests were void, you go off wandering with some ransom fairy gold in your pocket. Of course we kept a tracker on you, but I guess you got a little careless, hmm?" Mulch bared his teeth in frustration. "And what then? You land in jail for the umpteenth time. We even thought of putting you in Howler's Peak." Mulch swallowed.  
  
"I thank you for your kind consideration of my feelings. Not that it matters after last night," he smirked with the satisfaction of the slightly red face reddening in front of him.  
  
"Yes, well under normal circumstances, that's exactly what we would have done," the commander said, waving the comment aside. "But these are not-"  
  
"Ah, yes, Julius. I've been through this before. You want me to save your ass yet again."  
  
Roots face had taken on full hue. "If butt-kicking is all that matters to you, convict, there is no need for further talk. Howler's Peak has many spaces available still." Mulch grimaced, and Root smiled. "So are you open for negotiation? It seems like we are in your need again."  
  
"Are you? What is it this time? I thought we were free of both our enemies. One is locked up, the other is currently suffering from permanent amnesia. Now what? Swear toads taking over?" Despite the comment about Artemis having memory loss, Mulch still knew the truth. He fingered the gold medallion still in his pocket.  
  
"Sorry to disappoint you, but it's a bit more serious than that," said a whinny from the small screen hanging in the corner of the ceiling."  
  
"Nice to see you too, Foaly," said Mulch, rolling his eyes. "Now what's the deal?"  
  
"Hold on, I'll let the captain do the honors," rushed Foaly, punching buttons all around the screen. It buzzed for a moment, and Captain Holly Short was on, straightening her helmet.  
  
"Hey, dwarf, long time no see. Jail record's not doing to well, is it?" She smirked watching Mulch curse.  
  
"I bet you were in the capture squad last night! I was doing just fine without you."  
  
"Oh, were you? You seemed like you had got in a cell yet again. Who's going to keep you from getting stuck in the toilet?"  
  
"GET A MOVE ON IT, CAPTAIN!!!!!" roared Root, and everyone jumped. "THIS IS NOT A TIME FOR LIGHT TALK!!!!"  
  
Holly caught her balance and appeared on the screen again. "Alright. Here's the deal. There have been many more trackers on the Mud Men since the Fowl incident. We're still looking for the signs of great intelligence like Artemis had. There haven't been any yet, but we did find a strange Mud person."  
  
Another one? Artemis was strange enough. This was getting absurdly unfair. Mulch ground his tombstone teeth together.  
  
Holly smirked. "Oh, I know what you're thinking. Another world- takeover mastermind. Another control struggle. No, like I said, this girl has nowhere near the intelligence Artemis has. But she's still significantly smart. And there's a reason." She brought up a full color picture of Aimee. "Take a look at her ears."  
  
Mulch's narrowed his eyes. "They're elfin. Obviously a descendant. Don't try to fool me, Holly. She's not a Mud person."  
  
"No," Root intervened, "she's a Mud Girl-fairy mix. I thought for sure that it was impossible, but trackers examined her DNA. It's absolutely true." Mulch was unable to speak. "Her mother was a Mud woman who had a child with a sprite." Everyone winced in disgust. It was a sacred commandment not to have affairs of any kind with the Mud people except when defending themselves.  
  
"Why wasn't this known until now?" asked Mulch.  
  
"The sprite in question had been making frequent visits to the surface for police matters. We lost contact with him suddenly, and he reported back 3 days later. He shortly after commited suicide for unknown reasons. Aimee's mother Andrea also killed herself six days after her daughter was born." There was silence for a moment.  
  
Holly brought up a profile. " This is the Interpol file on Aimee Howell." Mulch scanned down. 5 feet, 3 inches. Shoulder length brown hair. Hazel-blue eyes. Located: Amsterdam, Holland. Guardian: Areida Howell (aunt). 14 years old. Gender...his eyes lingered on the answer. He sniggered with a sudden realization.  
  
"It's a Mud Girl," confirmed Mulch with a touch of disdain. He sniggered. Holly turned pink.  
  
"And what's wrong with that?" She said defiantly.  
  
"Well, it depends--it's either the fact that you are one or the fact that Artemis wasn't." Holly had steam coming out of her ears.  
  
"You shouldn't be throwing insults at my officers," Root warned with a reprimanding tone. "There is the strange fact that Artemis and Aimee are both the same age," Root went on, ignoring Mulch's angry looks. " Actually, they were born the same day." Mulch's unhingable jaw dropped, and it wasn't pretty.  
  
"Yes. It does seem impossible, doesn't it?" said Foaly, offscreen." But it's true. No idea why. Funny things happen, especially when related to the Fowls. Fortunately, Aimee is not a criminal, although she has been doing secret work in her so-called 'private' files. That's where we got worried. In her Internet search record, she has a number of sites investigating the existence of our race, exactly how Artemis started his plans of capture. We planted a blocker to all of the sites, and she was able to get past to all of them. We were able to plant it with a false fingerprint to put her off, so I don't think she has enough information yet to prove anything. But she's coming close."  
  
Mulch rubbed his whiskered chin thoughtfully. "Genetic pull, no doubt. Especially with the Mud Men family tree craze going on right now."  
  
Root clapped his hands impatiently. "I think that's enough on Aimee. Now can you please tell him about the problem!"  
  
Holly took a deep breath. "Okay. Aimee is a side complication for now. Something has gone wrong with Artemis." Mulch groaned. "He's reversed his psychological makeup. He is now back to plotting for the family fortune. Not only that, but Butler and Juliet have both gone back also. The only ones unchanged are Artemis's parents. The whole cycle could start again. The Book translation, the kidnapping, and then the doom of our race. All over again."  
  
Mulch sighed and cursed. He wasn't ready for a cross-species war. Not even was he ready to be living exposed to the Mud Men. He had plenty of plans for his future already. He didn't really want to work with the undercover fairies of the LEPrecon, but it was better than Howler's Peak. He rubbed his hands together.  
  
"Okay, Julius, what's the plan?" 


	3. Chapter 3: The Puzzle

Hey! An update! How about that! Sorry it took so long. I like to write in huge chunks.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Aimee looked out her window. Not that there was much to see. It was more of a concentration skill. There was something happening at the tip of her finger, and she was trying to find out exactly what it was.  
  
She flipped her hair behind her shoulders and tried again. Screwing her eyes shut, she took a deep breath and relaxed her body. After a few long seconds, she felt a slight tingle running down her arm. Excitement rose in her chest, but she pressed it down again. She opened her eyes a sliver. There it was, a small blue spark curling around her index finger for a fleeting second before it disappeared.  
  
A small victory, and another puzzle. For the past thirteen years she'd been trying to figure out who she was. Her father had disappeared mysteriously and her mother died six days after her birth. They were gone, and with them, her background. There were only two things left. Her name, Amy Howell, and her mother's name, Andrea. She was living now with her mother's sister, Areida. It was her only link to her past.  
  
Areida, however, was just as clueless, and although Aimee loved her like a mother, she was frustrated that her aunt could not help her. There was something strange about Aimee, and she herself knew that very well. She was uncommonly smart, extremely short, and had strangely pointy ears. Her voice was beautiful, but sometimes, weirdly hypnotic. She hardly ever got hurt, and when she did, it healed within minutes. Even her peers avoided her. She was similar to the outcasts in India, or the untouchables. At least that's how it felt.  
  
She had done tons of searches on the Internet. She looked at the sites of odd occurrences, prodigies, even extreme body parts. When she sorted all of this information in her head, the most likely explanation of her extraordinary features was the belief in this race that she referred to as "the X's." the X's were referred to with all sorts of the fairy tale names, and she ignored those. She looked at the descriptions, which fit her quite well. Aimee found it extremely amusing that she looked like one of these X's, but as she probed more, she found that there were many similarities between her and them. Who were they? Was she one of them? Did they hold clues to her past? She looked for anything about blue sparks. Were they...magic?  
  
She dismissed the notion immediately. There was no such thing, said her common sense. But there it was, nagging at the back of head. Am I magic? Could I really be magic?  
  
Areida woke her up for her trance. "Aimee, school! You're going to be late!"  
  
Aimee rushed out the door, her thoughts still in turmoil. and there it was again, the little childish voice whispering in the back of her head: Am I magic? Could I really be magic?... 


End file.
